The Heresy Within (43 page)

“No, Constance they didn't kill me. It suited D'roan to keep me instead. Tied up for his amusement whenever he wanted to put his cock in something or beaten whenever he got angry.

“For three months,” Jezzet screamed at Constance. “For three months I was beaten, raped and humiliated every day so tell me again how Catherine was my friend!”

“Lying whore!” Constance spat as she swung her sword. “You killed her.”

They were at the stairs down now. Jez caught the giant's sword on her own and stepped sideways, the big woman turned with her. Constance's back was to the stairs. Jezzet planted a foot in the woman's stomach and then she was falling away.

Constance hit the stairs with a solid crack and a cry of pain and then rolled the rest of the way down to a series of grunts and groans. Jezzet started walking down the stairs.
Steep stairs, I wouldn't want to fall.

“I didn't have a choice, Constance. When D'roan got bored of me he started threatening to give me to his men, to his whole fucking army. Then came H'ost's stupid bloody challenge and D'roan had a better idea.”

Constance was struggling to her feet at the bottom of the stairs, her left arm was hanging limp, looked broken, her face was bloodied and she was leaning on her sword. “She should never...” The giant spat out some blood. “She should never have fought you.”

Jez laughed. “She should never have fought. Catherine was good with a sword, no doubt, one of the best natural fighters I’ve ever seen but she was never trained. D'roan had at least ten men in his camp that could have cut her to pieces but he deemed it would be best if I did it.”

Constance swung a clumsy one-handed slash at Jez; the Blademaster just stepped aside and started circling the giant. “He made me a deal there and then. Said If I killed Catherine, if I cut her up and humiliated her in the challenge he'd give me my freedom, just let me go. If I refused he'd give me to his army and make sure I died from it.”

“You're lying!” Again the giant made a clumsy swing and again Jezzet stepped out of the way. “After you killed her,” Constance looked to be crying from her good eye, “you were still with D'roan.”

That made Jezzet pause. “Yes. He gave me my freedom and I stayed with him.”
And hated myself for it. I should have killed him.

The big woman dropped to one knee, still leaning on her sword. She was panting, clearly in a lot of pain and shaking like a leaf in a storm. “So why tell me? You know I won't stop. I will kill you, whore!”

Jezzet nodded. “I know you won't stop, Constance.” Her sword flashed out and took the giant in the face.

Constance fell to the floor screaming, clutching at her right eye with her unbroken arm. Jezzet's blade had given her a mirror of the scar she had given her on the day of the challenge, on the day Catherine had died, on the day Jezzet had made herself a lifelong enemy.

The giant screamed as she writhed on the floor, blood welling up from between her fingers.

“I told you that, Constance, because I want it done with,” Jezzet said, her voice sounding quiet and sad to her ears. “I want that part of my life over, done with, laid to rest. Goodbye, Constance.”

Jezzet thrust her sword into Constance's chest, between the ribs, into the heart. The big woman gasped, twitched once, twice and then relaxed into death.

On her way back to the front of the building Jezzet found a number of bodies; servants, maids, soldiers, even a couple of folk who looked blooded; all dead, torn to shreds.

When she found the door they had entered through she found the yard was even worse than inside the mansion. Jez had seen fewer bodies on a battlefield. Corpses were strewn everywhere and where there weren't any dead people there was blood from one. She almost stepped on a head as she exited the building and after a moment realised it belonged to Green, half of one of his cheeks was missing but it was him, or at least it had been.

Two men stood in the centre of the yard with three horses. Thanquil and the Black Thorn were arguing by the sounds of it but neither of them had weapons drawn though Thorn was poking the Arbiter in the chest and pointing off towards the town. Thanquil was shaking his head in reply.

Jezzet approached. “Hell of a distraction, Thorn.”
Not to mention an impressive feat, slaughtering an entire garrison.

“Huh?” Both men turned towards her at once. Thanquil smiled and the Black Thorn's face twitched into what Jez figured was a grin.

“Oh, this.” Thorn looked around the yard. “Weren't me, it were H'ost. Though I'll most likely get blame fer it.”

“Are you...” Thanquil asked.

Jez smiled. “I'm alright.”

“Did you...”

“I did.”

Thorn spat. “Did what?”

“Constance is dead.”

“Aye? So is H'ost. Tell her, Arbiter.”

Thanquil winced. “I killed him with a spoon.”

The Black Thorn rasped out a laugh and Jezzet couldn't help but join in.
Couldn't have happened to a more deserving bastard.

“Horses?” she asked. The big brown one was staring at her with dull eyes. It took a step towards her and started nuzzling at her hand.

“Witch hunter's idea,” Thorn said. “Reckons we need ta make a quick getaway. Reckon he might be right.”

Jezzet nodded. “What about the others? I saw Green... or well his head but...”

“We're it, ain't no others.”

Well I'll miss Bones at least.
Truth was she might even miss Swift; full of shit as he was Jez had come to like his stories.

She swung herself onto the horse, Jez had never liked the creatures but she knew how to ride one at least. Thanquil looked comfortable enough in a saddle but the Black Thorn kept fidgeting like someone had just tried to stick something up his arse. It was near full dark but the moon was high and bright and lanterns lit the town along the streets. They weren't the only people about; there were folk all over the roads, all looking like they were heading for the town gate. Jezzet spied a few bodies here and there, not to mention she could hear screams off in the distance.

“What the hell happened here?” Jezzet asked.

Thanquil sighed. “It's not our concern.”

The Black Thorn growled. “Aye. Reckon I might get blamed fer that too though.”

It was two nights after Hostown when Jezzet asked the question. By then it already felt like they had been riding forever. Thanquil's rear alternated between numb and painful and it looked as though the others were faring even worse. The Black Thorn grumbled and moaned with every bounce. Thanquil had tried to tell him to move with the horse but more than once the sell-sword had complained of, '
crushing my stones
.' Jez was more silent about the pain but he could see her wincing. They stopped from time to time, to water the horses and let them graze for a while.

Nobody had remarked on their leaving Hostown, so many of its residents were fleeing the chaos that the soldiers had been too hard pressed and confused to pay attention to three riders among a thousand.

None of the three knew the area as well as Swift but making it to the forest that bordered the Jorl had been easy enough, from here they needed to find a safe crossing and then ride south until they reached Chade. With such a diminished party the watches were harder at night as well, each them had to take a turn watching over the others and making sure they were not ambushed. It felt queer to trust the Black Thorn to keep him safe as he slept but Thanquil couldn't say he had much of a choice and so far Thorn had proved himself true.

“You said you'd explain it all if we both survived,” Jezzet said just as Thanquil had been contemplating sleep. They had no fire; they would not risk it in the forest with tales of bandits what they were but all three were sat in a circle among a copse of trees. Thanquil had his back to one, the Black Thorn leaned against another, standing watch but listening all the same. Jezzet sat cross-legged on the mossy green ground, staring at the Arbiter.

“I did...” Thanquil glanced at the Black Thorn, unsure how much of the truth he was willing to tell with the sell-sword listening in.

“There is a traitor in the Inquisition...” Thanquil started. From there he told them both almost everything; about how he was sent to Chade to deal with the witch in gaol, about how his true goal had been to find and question H'ost in connection with the traitor, about what H'ost had told him; that the traitor was an Inquisitor, a woman and that she had at least one accomplice. He told them about how H'ost had been trying to implant demons from the void into human bodies and that he feared the traitor might be doing the same to Arbiters. He left out only that the demons were bound to the Inquisition, sworn to serve and that the God-Emperor had been the one to send him on this mission.

By the end of the telling Thanquil found his jaw ached from talking. Jezzet refused to meet his eyes and the Black Thorn was staring at him with a look that might have been respect.

“So what's your plan now, Arbiter?” Jezzet asked.

The way Thanquil saw it he only had one option available to him. “I'm headed for Chade. There I'll take a boat back to Sarth. Find Arbiter Kessick. Follow him to the Inquisitor that has betrayed us and kill them both.”

The Black Thorn snorted. “Ya really gotta work on these plans o' yours, Arbiter. Why not jus' tell the rest o' ya Inquisitors 'bout this Kessick? Have them torture the truth out o' him.”

Thanquil winced. “I don't know who I can trust. If Kessick gets wind that they're coming for him he'll either turn up dead or fled and then I'm back to having nothing. I need him to lead me to the real traitor.”

“Do that then,” Thorn said. “Find out who it is an' tell the Inquisitors which one o' them is all bad an' naughty.”

“I can't just go accusing Arbiters and Inquisitors of heresy without proof, Black Thorn.”

“Why not?”

Thanquil had to stop himself from sighing. “I'm not exactly well liked in the Inquisition. They'd probably just try me for heresy instead. Most of them already believe I'm guilty.”

“Why?” asked Jezzet.

“It doesn't matter.” Truth was the last thing Thanquil wanted to talk about right now was his history, or his family.

Thanquil shrugged out of his Arbiter coat and started rolling the brown leather into as tight ball as it would go before shoving it into his pack. “It's too dangerous for me to be walking around as an Arbiter at the moment. Here. In Chade. In Sarth.” It was strange but he felt naked without his coat.

“I need your help,” Thanquil said. “Both of you. I...”

“Ya need my help ta do what?” Thorn asked.

“To do what you do best, Black Thorn. Kill Arbiters.”

The sell-sword laughed, Thanquil was becoming almost used to the harsh rasping noise by now. “No.”

“Um...” Somehow that was not the answer Thanquil had expected. Jezzet had yet to say anything; she just sat there in silence.

“Killin' you bastards is a risky business an' I ain't got no reason ta walk into ya midst an' risk my life like that. Strikes me I done far too much riskin' my neck recently an' fer fuck all in the way of reward.”

“What if I offered you a pardon...”

“Eh?”

“If you help me do this I'll make sure the Inquisition stop chasing you, Thorn. You'll never have to see an Arbiter again; never have to worry when the next one might catch up with you.”

That seemed to peak his interest. “You could do that? Thought ya said they don't much like you.”

Thanquil grinned. “Accusing an Inquisitor of heresy and convincing them the Black Thorn isn't the heretic they think he is are two different things. Help me, Thorn and I'll get you your pardon, you'll never have to see me or another Arbiter again. I'll see you're paid as well. Two hundred gold coins in Sarth currency. More than enough for you to buy passage anywhere you might want to go and get set up there.”

“Earn a pardon by killin' Arbiters.” Thorn laughed again. “I'm in.”

As Thanquil opened his mouth to ask Jezzet she spoke first. “I'm in. I want the same deal as Thorn; two hundred gold bits and no Arbiters following me after we're done.”

“Done.”

“Might be we need ta come up with a real plan this time though,” Black Thorn said with a grin

Jezzet nodded, she was staring at the Arbiter though. “You almost look like a normal person without that coat on.”

At least they were moving again, that was something, Betrim reckoned, but not very fast. When they'd hopped on the boat from Chade it had seemed it might be a quick journey. 'S
trong winds
.' The Captain had said, '
wouldn't surprise me if we made the trip in three weeks
.' So far they'd been at sea for six weeks and for two of those they'd been sitting becalmed.

Fact was Betrim wasn't sure he liked the idea of arriving at Sarth any better than being stuck at sea. The seat of the Inquisition was no place for a man like him. All those witch hunters walking around looking for folk to burn, looking for the Black Thorn.

For the first three weeks of his time at sea Betrim had become fast friends with the railings, leaning over and retching even when he had nothing in his stomach. He'd only been out on the ocean twice before in his life; first when he left his home and sailed to the Five Kingdoms where he'd spent an entire winter freezing his stones off and second when he'd sailed from the Five Kingdoms to the wilds where he'd spent more than a decade murdering folk for money and avoiding witch hunters. Now he was sailing back to Sarth, back to the kingdom of his birth and he was not well pleased.

The crew seemed a likeable enough sort. In between his retching Betrim had made friends with a few of them. One such sailor, a man the rest called Olly the Nose on account of his massive hawk-like bill, had taken him to the bow and shoved a bottle of rum into his hand. The sailors called the rum
Widow's Bounty
and it was close to black in colour and stronger than any spirit Betrim had ever tasted. Soon after his retching had stopped and Betrim had settled into a drunken stupor for the remainder of the voyage. He counted himself lucky that the ship carried a more than healthy supply of the fiery rum.